Before Ye Chuan could take Miaomiao's pulse, Meng Ruji found herself pulled onto the wooden cart by an enthusiastic girl who immediately grabbed the wheels and shouted with pure joy: "Giddyup! Giddyup!"
The cart, unsurprisingly, didn't budge.
Miaomiao looked to Meng Ruji desperately. "Brother Changyun, I don't know how to ride a horse."
The group fell silent.
Then Meng Ruji—after a brief identity crisis—turned to Tuzi with eyes like ice and a voice like stone: "Giddyup."
Tuzi gritted his teeth, crawled to the front of the cart, and began running with it, his large feet pounding the earth.
Miaomiao's delighted laughter echoed across the mountains.
Meng Ruji sat rigid on the cart, one arm around Miaomiao to keep her from falling, her expression suggesting she was contemplating the meaning of existence.
Every bite of flatbread, every scrap of clothing—they all demand payment in humiliation.
After several large circles around the ruined temple with the wind in their faces, Miaomiao finally fell asleep in Meng Ruji's arms, exhausted from happiness.
Taking advantage of the quiet, Meng Ruji ordered Tuzi to gather the luggage and summon Ye Chuan and Mu Sui. They needed to move toward Zhuliu City.
While Meng Ruji tended Miaomiao on the cart, Tuzi hurried to the ruined temple to gather their things. When he emerged, he found Mu Sui standing motionless before the divine statue, staring at it without speaking.
Ye Chuan approached him cautiously. "Young Master Mu? Shouldn't you join Miss Meng?"
Mu Sui didn't answer. Instead, he walked deliberately into the temple.
Confused, Tuzi watched as his master approached the fallen stone god. Mu Sui's hands gripped the statue's edges, veins bulging with effort. With a grunt, he lifted the entire stone figure upright.
With a thunderous rumble, the divine statue stood tall again before the collapsed temple, shedding dust and broken tiles. Half-covered in mud, it rose above them all—expressing neither sorrow nor joy, as gods do.
"Let's go," Mu Sui said, taking one last look before turning to leave.
Tuzi quickly shouldered the remaining luggage and followed.
But when Mu Sui passed Ye Chuan, the Medical Immortal stepped directly into his path, his expression wary.
"Young Master Mu," Ye Chuan said coldly. "When Miss Meng sheltered in this temple from the rain, one could understand—an emergency. But what is the meaning of your actions now?"
"It's none of your business."
"You are a cultivator too!" Ye Chuan's voice rose with agitation. "Didn't your ancestral sect suffer persecution from the gods?"
Mu Sui let out a scornful laugh and glanced at him sidelong. "Actually, no."
His expression darkened as he continued walking, leaving Ye Chuan standing in stunned silence.
When the group finally reunited, Meng Ruji waved from the cart. Her hand was immediately caught by Miaomiao, who pressed it against her cheek.
"Brother Changyun, you've come back. That's wonderful."
Meng Ruji sighed and listened as Miaomiao continued, her eyes closed in contentment: "When I was little, I thought mounted soldiers looked so heroic. When you became a soldier too, I thought the same of you. I always wanted to ride horses with you, but you always had urgent matters. Then you left... and had even less time... But today, finally, we got to ride a horse."
Curiosity drove Meng Ruji to ask carefully: "Did I... go to war?"
"Mm."
"Did I..." She hesitated. "Not come back?"
This touched something raw. Miaomiao's brow furrowed, her breathing became irregular, and the beautiful dream threatened to crack into nightmare.
Meng Ruji quickly intervened: "Of course I came back! I was just about to take you horse riding and go home to get married. We're setting off right now!"
Miaomiao's tension dissolved. "Yes... we're about to get married..." Her breathing evened out, and she drifted back to sleep.
Only then did Meng Ruji exhale. A young soldier who never returned. That's what she regrets.
When the group resumed their journey, Meng Ruji immediately asked Ye Chuan: "Can you help her? What can we do?"
After examining Miaomiao's pulse thoroughly, Ye Chuan offered his diagnosis: "She's been affected by nightmare magic."
"I know that already. How do we cure it?"
"To untie the bell, one must find the person who tied it," Ye Chuan said quietly.
"Mo Li won't wake. Consider that bell-tier dead. What's another method to make her more lucid?"
Ye Chuan fell silent, thinking hard. "Nightmare magic feeds on regret and unfulfilled wishes. If she achieves fulfillment in the dream, she might break free."
Meng Ruji raised an eyebrow. "That's stating the obvious. I've already been satisfying her through repeated horse rides just to keep her calm. I need something else to make her more aware."
Ye Chuan offered no response.
"Never mind," Meng Ruji sighed. "Let's head to Zhuliu City first. A trading center should have talented doctors, shouldn't it? Can we find healers there?" She turned to Mu Sui. "Real ones?"
Mu Sui didn't answer, but Tuzi eagerly filled the silence: "Of course! Zhuliu City has excellent doctors and apothecaries. The city lord developed the pill for curing Nai River poisoning with his team back in the day."
Meng Ruji glanced at Mu Sui, who crossed his arms as though he hadn't heard—though he didn't contradict it.
Tuzi continued, increasingly animated: "And I've brought down the pill prices! Though..." His enthusiasm dimmed. "The pharmacy manager says it doesn't make much money..."
"Your tongue should be cut," Mu Sui said coldly.
Tuzi's mouth snapped shut.
But Meng Ruji's ears had caught something interesting. She tilted her head, studying Tuzi. "You talk to pharmacy managers? You set pill prices? Only pill prices?"
Tuzi exchanged nervous glances with Mu Sui, then chose silence and continued pulling the cart.
Meng Ruji filed this away. Master and servant pair hiding something. Not urgent, but worth investigating in Zhuliu City.
Throughout the journey, Miaomiao remained emotionally stable—sleeping, waking, holding Meng Ruji's hand while sleeping, gazing peacefully at the landscape while awake. She seemed like a girl full of anticipation, heading home to marry her love, quiet and content.
During rest stops, Meng Ruji would weave flower crowns from roadside blooms, placing them gently on Miaomiao's head like an elder brother indulging a beloved sister.
"It's so beautiful, Brother Changyun!" Miaomiao would praise endlessly, touching the delicate petals.
Tuzi watched with reluctant envy: "The bad woman does have skill at coaxing children."
Ye Chuan also nodded approvingly: "Miss Meng's color coordination and design are quite refined."
Meng Ruji, pleased with herself, deliberately turned to Mu Sui. "Isn't it pretty?"
Mu Sui turned his head away. "Mediocre."
Just roadside wildflowers—what's remarkable about them? His expression said it all.
Meng Ruji didn't argue. Back on the road, Miaomiao wore her flower crown and played with a grass cricket Meng Ruji had folded, humming folk melodies softly.
After a few measures, Meng Ruji learned the tune and began humming along. Sometimes Miaomiao would sing a line, and Meng Ruji would follow with the next.
"You sing beautifully," Meng Ruji would praise.
"Like a lark," Ye Chuan agreed. "Lively and pleasing."
Tuzi, pulling the cart, nodded along. "Quite good!"
Only Mu Sui remained silent, gazing into the distance as though deaf.
Meng Ruji deliberately turned to him. "Doesn't the melody sound nice?"
"Just so-so," he replied.
Meng Ruji pursed her lips. "You're so contrary. You refuse to admit flowers bloom beautifully or people are interesting. Is there anything you like?"
Tuzi, relaxed by the journey's rhythm, answered directly: "Our city lord hates everything except money."
Mu Sui neither denied nor corrected him.
Meng Ruji met his eyes. "You're not cute at all."
She turned away and resumed humming with Miaomiao.
As they continued, Tuzi learned the melody too and hummed along, while Ye Chuan nodded to the rhythm. Only Mu Sui craned his neck toward the distance, seemingly deaf to it all.
Yet his expression appeared somewhat gentler than usual.
When they reached the high notes and Tuzi's voice cracked under the strain, Miaomiao and Meng Ruji glanced at each other and burst into hearty laughter.
Mu Sui turned his head, and where no one could see, he lifted the corners of his mouth slightly.
That day, along the spring road, there were fragrant flowers and folk melodies. The air felt like youth itself—carefree spring caught at its most beautiful, several people traveling together through the finest season the world had to offer.
For one brief moment, even a man who claimed to love only money found himself smiling at laughter he would never admit to hearing.
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